The holiday season came and went this year and I escaped unscathed by only attending 2 Xmas parties.  My best guy Cesar was host at one and my date at the other… I’m just gonna say Thank God for that!!  He asked me to be his date to a Xmas party that was being thrown by his boyfriend’s friends.  Since his boyfriend was gonna be out of town that weekend, I happily obliged.  I guess the theme was “moustache/tacky sweater”, but I wore neither.  I decided on black heels, black hose, black lace miniskirt, black button down and black belt.  For those of you who know me, that’s a lot of black!!!!

I’m gonna go on a quick jaunt for a sec to give you a little backstory.  Being a native of LA, there are certain neighborhoods/areas that I usually feel out of place or uncomfortable.  For me, these places are the South Bay, Orange County, and certain parts of the Inland Empire.  I find these spots too homogeneous and conservative for my taste.  I grew up in a town that was very racially mixed, so that is what I’m used to and when I feel most comfortable.  Back to the story…

Okay, looking fierce, I picked up Cesar at his place.  He somehow acquired a tacky sweater…remnant from the previous year, I’m sure.  We make our way down to Hermosa Beach…yes the one in the South Bay.  Insert foreshadowing element here.  The place is packed with super nice friendly people who make me feel at home.  What a relief! The party dies down and a smaller splinter group decide to go to a dive bar in Manhattan Beach.  We follow in hot pursuit and I hit it off with one of the other girls.  After drinking and chatting for a while, her boyfriend asks Cesar and I to come with them across the street to a bar called Beaches.  Apparently they had dancing. Apparently they had a dj.  Apparently 25% of that would turn out to be true :-(

There was technically dancing, which accounts for the 25%, but, for lack of a better word, it was very “white.”  The place seemed to be very popular with the white frat boy type, whom I lovingly refer to as “douchebags.”  Their spastic, schizophrenic dancing almost cost me my beer a few times, not to mention the damage done to my retinas for having to see such horrendous “dancing.”  As far as I was concerned, they were giving us whities a bad name.  I mean there was literally a guy on all fours facing up, like a game of twister, with a girl bouncing on top of him like they were bonin’.  Ahem…we don’t call simulated sex “dancing” … Sorry.  Another example? How bout guys dressed like Santa Claus thrashing around like they were in a mosh pit? I’m at a loss for words to describe all the atrocities I saw that night :(

Unfortunately, this was not the most upsetting part of the evening.  That came when I realized who was in charge of the music that all these spazzes were dancing to.  To the layperson, you would call him a DJ, but I knew better.  I likened him to an anthropomorhic laptop, one that seemingly had human-like qualities, but was really just a bad itunes playlist robot machine!!  The “DJ” was squeezed into a space about 3 feet square, with room for himself, his laptop, and a small mixer.  Ummm…hi, don’t you need some turntables and vinyl to at least give the appearance of credibility?!?!  Not to mention knowing how to use said equipment.  He could barely navigate through his itunes library, which caused huge gaps of silence in between most of his bad music choices.  Since when does every asshole with a laptop think he can be a dj?  My ears and my music sensibility were deeply offended by this idiot.  I have learned to never go to Beaches for good music…and I’m so happy Cesar was there to commiserate with (well, maybe I just bitched and he was a good listener)  Love him!!

Folks, here’s your musical prescription…please check out DJ Shadow, DJ Cam or Cut Chemist for some amazing songs and talent.  These guys truly have a gift.  I’m a sucker for trip-hop! :)

You’re welcome!

As a native of LA, I take pride in all that our fair city has to offer.  There are so many cute little neighborhoods in which to spend a day, a night, or a couple of hours.  My cute spot of the the day is literally a spot — Brite Spot in Echo Park.  Nestled just west of Dodger Stadium, Echo Park feels authentically LA without all the “Hollywood” connotations… although I must say the ratio of hipsters to normal folk seems to be becoming a bit too skewed!  There’s only so much apathy and feigned self-importance a girl can take!

But I digress :) Brite Spot is indeed just that — a glimmer of hope for those who want to live out their dive diner dreams!  I, for one, am a HUGE sucker for anything dive-y – Bars, Clubs, Restaurants, etc. – and this place doesn’t disappoint.  Also, it helps that they have an extensive veggie menu, which gives it a bonus star in my book, being a veghead and all!  My fav is a veggie turkey sandwich on toasted sourdough with lettuce, mayo and cranberry sauce, but for you omnivores out there, you could easily get the real thing and fall in love too!  But let’s call a spade a spade…this is not the place for gourmet cuisines or exotic recipes…it’s just a kick-ass diner/coffee shop.  So please manage your expectations of the place if you choose to venture out and I totally suggest that you do. :)

other good qualities:

1) open till like 4 am.  convenient after a night of drinking, dancing, sexing

2) good soundtrack…most of the time

3) makes a good pre/post hangout place for dodger games

4) funky, retro, quirky aesthetic

5) hop, skip and a jump from american apparel and the echoplex

6) there are some interesting and scary people there – in a good way. i’m a voyeur, what can i say?

7) i’m telling you to go there…what more do you want?!?!?

Brite Spot         1918 W. Sunset Boulevard, Los Angeles CA

Being single in LA is like being at a car dealership with a lot of lemons.  There are many candidates to choose from, but ultimately you end up with a sour taste in your mouth.  I admit I have been out of the dating scene for quite some time, but following my break-up of a 5 + year relationship in March, I have been thrust back into it.  For the most part I love being single again…I get to go wherever, do whatever and sleep with whomever I choose.  There’s also much more responsibility and upkeep involved with being a sexy single girl.  I may be the only one, but I have a weird superstition when it comes to my downstairs grooming.  I never know what the latest trends are and it varies from man to man, so how can a girl possibly please all of her visitors?  It seems that every time I have her in tip-top shape, which is often, I rarely have the opportunity to show her off, but the second she lets her hair down a tiny bit (pun intended!) I have to beat the suitors off with a stick!!!  Ughh… if I were religious I would think the kama sutra karma gods were punishing me for something I did in a past life.

My most recent experience happened in the City by the Bay, good ole’ San Francisco.  I was up visiting my dear friend, Aileen and her husband, Gilbert who are both a ton of fun.  They live near Haight-Ashbury and we tend to bar hop along the main drag for some amazing sangria and beer.  Often times they invite their guy friend, I’ll call him J, whom I have had a mild flirtation with in the past.  He is about 18 years older than me, but you wouldn’t know it by the way he acts.  Frequently, I feel like the more mature, less awkward part of the duo.  Kinda sad considering I’m pretty fun and silly myself!  Anyway, on one particular trip, we all hung out a lot, drinking and carrying on.  J and I started escalating our flirtation to some serious making out and our hands started flying everywhere.

Enter my pubic hair superstition…I wasn’t anticipating or planning on anything sexual, so she wasn’t up to my normal high standards.  Well, one thing led to another and I found myself in bed with J.  Now I don’t know if it was me feeling self-conscious about downstairs or if the sexual tension didn’t translate well into the bedroom, but it was BEYOND boring. :(  I wasn’t feeling it AT ALL…it was tedious, which was quite a feat considering it didn’t last very long!  We tried again in the morning with a similar outcome and I realized it and he wasn’t doing it for me.  Damn my stupid superstition!!  From that day on, I decided I would always keep her coiffed just the way I liked and maybe, just maybe, someone I really liked would come along and see her in all her glory!  Guess what…I’m still waiting for someone super special to come and rock my world!  Not that I’ve been completely lonely, I just haven’t found anything permanent or meaningful.  I haven’t lost hope though. :)

Your Rx, ladies?  If you aren’t gonna keep yourself groomed for a man, please just do it for yourself.  It’s amazing how much more confident you’ll feel, kinda like wearing sexy lingerie to the supermarket or something!  Mix it up…see what different styles work best for your girl and never feel self-conscious about having her less than perfect.  The kind of men you sleep with should never make you feel bad about how she looks…unless you’ve got something that needs an antibiotic or if you look like Vadgezilla :)  I’m just saying…

Hugs, Becca

From time to time (wait a minute, that’s a lie!) Frequently and often, I get excited about a new/old movie, artist, musician, book, recipe, fashion or beauty tricks and feel compelled to share them with the world.  So, I’d like to introduce to you to my new ongoing topic, “My Favorite Things.” Perhaps they will soon become some of your favorites as well. :)

Volume 1

I would like to share with you my love of vintage Goofy cartoons from the 1940′s and 1950′s.  There were a couple dozen short cartoons made during this period which featured Goofy learning how to do various things like skiing, gymnastics, baseball, basketball, and track & field.  In true Goof fashion, hilarity ensues and he gets himself into ridiculous situations.  They are truly timeless and I laugh my ass off to this day every time I see one.  My favorites would have to be Hockey Homicide, How to Play Golf, and The Olympic Champ, but all of them are pretty damn funny.  If you haven’t seen them, I suggest you look them up on youtube immediately.  If you’ve got kids, they will get a kick outta them too!!  For a bit of trivia, Goofy’s proper name is Mr. George Geef. Weird, Huh?!?!

Because I love you, here is a link to all the Goofy shorts that were made during that time:

http://www.bcdb.com/cartoons/Walt_Disney_Studios/Shorts/Goofy/index.html

Enjoy!

xo, Becca

Long ago, when I was just through the awkward years of puberty, but still feeling the sting of shame, I had one of my annual check-ups with my doctor.  I have always been self-conscious about my body because I was forever the tall girl with womanly curves while the rest of my friends still looked like young girls. I once got mistaken for an 18 year old when I was 14 to give you an idea.

Anyway, I was expecting the usual “you’re healthy, see you next year” spiel I hear every year, except this time she hovered around my neck for what felt like an uncomfortable period.  She told me I was gonna have blood work done to check me for a thyroid problem.  What?!?!  I didn’t even know what that was and it made me super scared.  Tumor, Cancer, Imminent Death? She told me not to worry, that is was common and if the results came back positive, I would just have to take some medicine to correct it.  Phew!!!

Cut to… My results came in and I headed back to the doctor’s office to hear the diagnosis.  Negative.  Well, that was a relief, except for this…

“Well, Rebecca, the results came back negative for a thyroid problem” then a pause (one mississippi, two mississippi)  “I guess you just have a big neck.”

What the f*ck?!?!?!  May I remind you, bitch, that you’re talking to a young girl dealing with her new body, feelings for boys and the pressure of starting high school!  Thank you, because now I had the added anxiety of worrying about how my freakishly large neck was gonna fit into my social life.  I could just see it now… “Yes Bobby, I would love to go on a date with you.  Do you think you have room in your car for me and my f*cking huge neck too?” I should just get used to staying home alone and learning how to make scarves the new hip accessory! Bit of advice for all the docs out there, please don’t point out any cosmetic abnormalities to emotionally fragile teenage girls when there is nothing medically wrong with them!  This will just give them a complex and make them feel even uglier than they did before.  I know I wasn’t dying, but would it have killed you to practice better bedside manner?  My psyche would have thanked you.